


boil and bubble

by Singofsolace



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Colleagues to Lovers, Crossover, F/F, Fuck Or Die, Harry Potter Crossover - Freeform, Magic Made Them Do It, Non-Consensual Drug Use, The Worst Witch Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-01-20 21:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singofsolace/pseuds/Singofsolace
Summary: When Zelda Spellman is unknowingly slipped a personality-changing potion by three of her students, Lilith must distract her while everyone frantically searches for the antidote.A CAOS/ Harry Potter/ The Worst Witch Crossover
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 138
Kudos: 288





	1. double double

**Author's Note:**

> This is a three-way crossover between CAOS, Harry Potter, and The Worst Witch…because why not? Basically, the CAOS characters are in the HP Universe, where some of the events of The Worst Witch (the “Miss Softbroom” episode specifically) take place. Just go with it! You won’t be disappointed (I hope). One major thing that I've changed from CAOS canon is that Zelda isn't interested in being Faustus' mistress. I feel like certain things would be different in an alternate universe/crossover, and that would be one of them, for reasons I hope to explain in the next chapter or two. 
> 
> Content Warning: there is an attempted assault in the beginning of this fic, but Zelda gets the better of him. There is also non-consensual drug use; Zelda is given a personality-changing potion that effectively nullifies her ability to consent.
> 
> Please, please let me know what you think of this! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Zelda Spellman knew it was going to be a terribly difficult day when she woke up feeling as though someone was hammering the inside of her skull. She’d had headaches all of her life, but this one was exceptionally impossible to ignore. She debated transferring directly to the Headmaster’s tower to tell Professor Blackwood that she was feeling unwell and would need someone to cover her classes, but she hardly wanted to be alone with him after he’d made such inappropriate advances towards her only last night. 

Groaning, Zelda pulled herself out of bed with a great deal of effort. She had a small amount of migraine potion left, sitting on her vanity, but even after the garnet liquid had slid down her throat, she felt no relief. This was the trouble with having chronic migraines and cluster headaches; one became immune to all of the conventional remedies. Hilda had been trying to grow more potent ingredients for her migraine potions in Greenhouse Three, but had had little success so far.

No matter. She had a job to do, and she was no stranger to working through pain. She could handle it. But just as she was picking the most comfortable robes to wear to teach, there was a knock on her bedroom door. The students knew never to disturb her unless there was an emergency, so Zelda quickly went to open it, quite forgetting that she was still in her nightgown.

She was not at all pleased to see that it wasn’t a student, but rather the Headmaster, who was darkening her door.

“Zelda,” said Faustus Blackwood, raking his eyes over her.

“Headmaster,” said Zelda, not making any indication that he could come in. At this, he made a “tsk” sound as he leaned into her space, one arm draped against the doorframe.

“Zelda, Zelda, Zelda,” said Blackwood, reproachfully. “I’ve been telling you for sixteen years to call me Faustus. If anyone has that right, it’s you.”

Zelda could feel his eyes undressing her and had to stop herself from slamming the door in his face. Just because they had intimate knowledge of each other from their school days (and after) did not mean that she would stand for him trying to rekindle the flame, when she had made it very clear that she wasn’t interested now that he was married.

“To what do I owe this…honor?” said Zelda, still making no move to let him in. But Faustus just pushed passed her, entering her room without invitation, as if he owned the space himself.

“I wanted to clear up the…miscommunication we had last night,” said Faustus, making himself at home by sitting on the end of her bed.

“Miscommunication?” repeated Zelda, feeling the anger rise inside her. She didn’t call what Faustus did a “miscommunication.” The word he should have been looking for was "assault."

“Yes,” said Faustus, patting the place beside him, indicating that Zelda should take a seat.

“There was no miscommunication,” said Zelda, refusing to move any closer. “I told you I wasn’t interested in an affair, and you suggested that if I wanted to remain teaching at Hogwarts, I should reconsider.”

“See? Miscommunication,” said Faustus, hitting his cane on the floor for emphasis. “I would never have said such a thing. Your brother may have appointed you because you were family, but you are still the best Potions teacher Hogwarts has seen in over a century.”

Zelda scoffed. “So, bending me over your desk was… what? A performance review?”

Suddenly, Faustus leapt to his feet. Zelda didn’t have much time to react, and even if she did, the pounding in her head made it impossible to come up with a protection spell quickly enough. Faustus had slammed her back against the door in no time, one hand firm on her bicep, the other using the handle of his cane to play with her curls.

“You can’t tell me you aren’t even _a little bit_ tempted.”

Zelda could feel the magic building in her hands, but tried to quell the urge to hex him. He was the Headmaster, after all, and she would really hate to have to explain to the Deputy Headmistress, Lilith, exactly why she had attacked her superior. 

“I have no desire to be your mistress, Faustus. Just because your wife won’t let you touch her when she’s pregnant, doesn’t mean you should start coercing your female staff into satisfying your…needs.”

Faustus chuckled, then, throwing his cane away so that he could use his right hand to caress her face while the left still pinned her to the wall. “Oh, my dear, sweet Zelda. You’ve never needed convincing in the past. I’ve had you in every room of this castle. Why play the blushing virgin _now_?”

“I’m Constance’s _midwife,_ Faustus. Forgive me if I think your wife and unborn child deserve more than a witch with divided loyalties,” Zelda said, though it was hardly the real reason she didn't want to sleep with Faustus anymore. It sounded better to claim the higher moral ground and stick to it, rather than admit that she_ did_ enjoy their trysts, but didn't like how battered her body would be after each and every encounter. It was delicious agony, of course, and she had left her mark on _him_ many a time as well with the whip or flog, but the last time they had snuck off to the dungeons, he had left her chained there for nearly eight hours, magically bound so that she couldn't even summon herself a cup of water. Zelda wasn't particularly interested in exhibitionism, and as a teacher, she needed to think about the eventuality that a student could have stumbled upon their...activities. Not to mention, she had been missing for so long, Hilda had practically strong-armed Cerberus into doing a search of the Forbidden Forest with his Care of Magical Creatures class. Faustus claimed that leaving her chained was just a part of the game, so that she would be desperate for him by the time he returned, but that was when she realized that they were no longer equals; Faustus wanted complete control.

Which he only further proved when Faustus shoved a leg between her own, moving the hand on her cheek down to where the hem of her nightgown had risen up her thighs. “Are you saying that as long as my wife’s legs are open on your exam table, you’re keeping yours closed?”

When Faustus’ hand began moving up her thigh, dragging her nightgown with it, she decided enough was enough.

“_Alarte ascendare!”_ hissed Zelda, not accustomed to having to perform wandless magic, but doing it all the same. Faustus was thrown up and away from her, flying to the opposite side of the room. His body disturbed several shelves of knickknacks, which went crashing to the floor.

“Don’t touch me again. I mean it, Faustus. Don’t come to my room uninvited, don’t call me to your office with ulterior motives, and don’t think I won’t hex you just because you’re the Headmaster now.”

Faustus struggled to stand up, clutching a hand to the back of his head, which had made a sharp impact with her bedroom wall. “You always did like to mix pain with pleasure.”

“Get out, Faustus,” insisted Zelda, as her wand flew off of her bedside table and into her hand.

“I won’t be ordered about in my own castle,” said Faustus, using the wall to push himself back into a standing position.

Before Zelda could respond, there was a loud knock on her door. Neither Faustus nor Zelda broke their gaze.

“You ought to open it. It could be a student,” said Faustus, straightening his robes and running a hand through his ruffled hair so that he would look more presentable.

“And let a student see me holding the Headmaster at wand point?” whispered Zelda, harshly.

_“Miss Spellman? Is everything alright? I heard a crash.”_

Faustus cursed. “That damn woman never minds her own business.”

“She’s your deputy. It’s her job.”

_“Miss Spellman?” _

Torn between answering and casting an invisibility charm on both of them, Zelda just remained silent and immobile, staring at Faustus as if she had been petrified.

* * *

Lilith was spending her morning lying in bed, reading, when she happened upon a passage in her book that included a very detailed description of how to brew a new and improved remedy for witch flu. The illness had swept through the faculty and students without discrimination, with the infirmary currently filled to capacity with first-years that had never encountered the sickness before. Lilith marked the page, eager to share her findings with Hogwarts' potions mistress. Though the potion looked exceptionally complicated to make, Lilith knew if anyone could brew it successfully, it would be Zelda Spellman.

So, determined to speak with her before the first class period of the day, Lilith set off in the direction of Zelda Spellman’s room. She didn’t want to disturb the woman too early, lest she still be asleep, but with only twenty minutes to go before she would need to be in the Great Hall for breakfast, she figured Miss Spellman would be up and ready.

As she neared Miss Spellman’s door, she heard a loud crash that could only have come from her room. It sounded like perhaps a shelf had fallen, which was peculiar, since she hardly thought Zelda would be redecorating twenty minutes before her presence would be required elsewhere. Approaching the door, Lilith’s hand was poised to knock when she heard voices inside the room.

_“You always did like to mix pain with pleasure.”_

Lilith’s eyes went wide. That wasn’t Zelda’s voice; it was Blackwood’s.

_“Get out, Faustus.”_

_“I won’t be ordered about in my own castle.”_

Lilith sucked in a sharp breath. _What in Merlin’s name…?_ Deciding she ought to intervene in whatever it was, she knocked hard on the door.

“Miss Spellman? Is everything alright? I heard a crash.”

Lilith waited, but there was no response. Surely, she had just heard proof that Zelda Spellman and Faustus Blackwood were behind the door? Why wouldn’t they answer, even if only to tell her to go away? The idea that Blackwood might be insisting upon Zelda’s silence crossed her mind, making the urge to see if Zelda was alright even more intense.

“Miss Spellman?”

Lilith couldn’t help but wonder what business Blackwood could possibly have with Zelda this early in the morning—never mind that Lilith herself was there to speak with her—but the bit of the conversation she had overheard sounded less than civil, and it worried her. She had always sensed some tension between the Headmaster and his potions mistress, but she never would have imagined the tension involved early morning rendezvous.

Eventually, the door opened enough to reveal Zelda, but not Faustus. Lilith’s eyes widened a bit at the silk negligee Zelda was sporting. She’d never seen the potion’s mistress in anything more revealing than a tasteful set of black robes. Perhaps the business Faustus had had with Zelda was…_personal_. Lilith felt an unfamiliar and unwelcome stab of jealousy at that; she had always found Zelda attractive, and would’ve acted on that attraction, if only she thought it would be reciprocated.

“Deputy Headmistress? To what do I owe the pleasure?” said Zelda, backing away from the door to welcome her inside. Lilith expected to find Faustus there, too, but Zelda appeared to be alone.

“I heard… well. I don’t know what I heard, but I thought you might need some assistance.”

Lilith’s eyes landed on the broken trinkets lying near the far wall. Zelda saw where her focus had gone and immediately waved her wand to mend everything, returning the objects to their previous positions on the shelf.

“One of my spells misfired and hit the shelf. No harm done,” said Zelda, looking rather peculiar, with one hand pressed to her head, as if she were in pain, and the other holding her wand poised to do magic. The fact that the woman was still in her nightgown completed the strangeness of the image, and Lilith couldn’t help but be concerned.

Lilith also wondered if it was worth revealing that she had heard more than she let on, but decided against it. “Why were you practicing destructive spells alone in your room?”

Zelda shrugged, as if even she didn’t know the answer to that question. “I read about the spell and thought I could control it, but it turned out to be quite unpredictable. I won’t try it again.”

Lilith nodded, before remembering the book in her hands. “Actually, I was reading this morning as well, and came to show you a medicinal potion that I think might be useful to have on hand.”

“What does it treat?” said Zelda, mood changing on a sickle to one of keen professional interest.

“Witch flu,” said Lilith, opening the book to the marked page before handing it over. As Zelda read the ingredients and directions, Lilith let her eyes wander once more. Zelda’s nightgown was exceptionally becoming. Lilith so badly wanted to reach out and touch the fabric. And perhaps the skin beneath…

Zelda cleared her throat. Lilith looked up, sheepishly, aware that she had been caught staring.

“Clearly, I need to get dressed. I’ll look over this potion and get back to you by lunch,” said Zelda, placing the book down on her desk. “Was there anything else you wished to discuss?”

Lilith wanted to say yes, if only to spend more time enjoying this unexpected intimacy, but she was already feeling guilty enough for being caught ogling. “No, no. So long as I don’t hear anymore crashes once I’m in the corridor.”

Zelda’s gaze shifted down and away. “You won’t.”

Lilith nodded, sorry that she had clearly made Zelda uncomfortable. “Good. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the potion at lunch.”

“Of course.”

* * *

Sabrina Spellman had been studying potions intensively for five years, but she still struggled to make even the most basic of concoctions. It didn’t help that her aunt was practically a genius when it came to potions, and had no patience for her when she still made silly mistakes. It was only the second class of the day, but Sabrina already wished she could go back to bed. Lunch time couldn’t come soon enough, but first, she had to get through her aunt’s lab.

“I’ve assembled the ingredients you’ll need for an advanced color-changing potion. Please be aware that if you don’t follow the directions in your book diligently, there is the possibility of an extremely dangerous chemical reaction occurring,” said Aunt Zelda, directing the last bit right at Sabrina. Sabrina huffed, annoyed that Auntie Zee was always picking on her in front of the class. Just because she wasn’t good at potions, didn’t mean she wasn’t trying to be careful.

“Begin,” said Zelda, though she forgot to turn the hourglass over as she did. The students all got started—all, that is, except Nick Scratch, who was staring at the hourglass.

“Professor?” said Nick, looking at Zelda with curiosity.

“_Yes_, Mr. Scratch? You couldn’t possibly have a question already?”

Sabrina winced, thinking the disdain in her auntie’s voice would be enough to scare anyone, even Nicholas.

“You said to begin, but you didn’t turn the hourglass over. How will we know how much time we have left?”

Zelda sighed in frustration before jabbing her wand in the hourglass’ direction. Instead of turning, it went flying across the room and shattered against the wall. Several students screamed, which made Zelda flinch back, as if the noise caused her an intense amount of pain.

Sitting down heavily, her legs unable to hold her anymore, Zelda said, “You have thirty minutes, Mr. Scratch. There are twenty students in this room. Surely, you can find a single pocket watch among you?”

The students all exchanged glances. Clearly, Professor Spellman was in a mood today. Everyone got to work—though Sabrina did so very slowly, staring at her aunt as she did. 

“Professor Spellman seems…different today,” said Nick Scratch, placing several ingredients into his cauldron at once.

“Maybe she’s sick?” said Sabrina, not liking the way her auntie was pressing her fingers against her closed eyes. Distracted by her aunt’s strange behavior, she didn’t notice that she was putting the wrong ingredient into her cauldron until the potion exploded, smoke billowing out as if she had set it on fire.

Immediately, her aunt was up and out of her seat.

“Merlin's sake, Sabrina! What are you doing!?”

“I put foxbane in instead of nightshade,” said Sabrina apologetically, casting a spell to put out the smoke.

“Your brilliant father dies at the height of his magical ability, and you haven’t the faintest idea what to _do _with yours,” said Zelda, cleansing the cauldron with a spell of her own.

“It was an accident, Auntie Zee. I’m sorry!” insisted Sabrina, having never heard her aunt so upset at her, and she had done a lot of stupid and reckless things in her life.

“Excuse me, Professor, but I really don’t think that’s fair,” said Nick, coming to her defense.

“Did I ask you to speak, Nicholas Scratch?” said Zelda, towering over the boy in a way that should have been intimidating, if she weren’t pressing a hand to her head in obvious pain.

“No, Professor.”

“Then don’t,” she said, before turning to Sabrina. “Start again!”

A hush went over the class as Zelda returned to her desk, but didn’t sit down. Instead, she grabbed the book that she had been reading and stalked over to the supply shelves, apparently in search of an ingredient.

“Professor Spellman is acting horribly today,” said Nick, beginning to arrange a new set of ingredients. “Never mind a color-changing potion. We need a_ personality_ changing one!”

“Something like…this, you mean?” said Prudence, opening her potions book to the ingredients page for the Personality Changing Potion.

Sabrina looked nervously between her classmates before casting a quick glance at her aunt. “Prudence, Nick, this is a bad idea. She’s just having a bad day. That doesn’t give you the right to poison her!”

“She basically called you a disgrace to the Spellman name, Sabrina. You can’t tell me you don’t want to give her a taste of her own medicine?” said Prudence, putting ingredients rapidly into the cauldron, lest the deception be discovered before she was finished.

“She’s never said something like that to me before. She’s just…stressed. I don’t want to see her hurt,” pleaded Sabrina, her eyes going wide at the amount of nightshade Prudence was putting in the new potion.

“Come_ on_ half-breed, we’re not trying to kill her. We’re just going to have a little…fun.”

Having given up on making a new batch of color-changing potion, Sabrina just sat in silence, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as Prudence gave the potion its final touches.

“Professor Spellman!” said Prudence, raising her hand. “My color-changing potion is ready.”

Zelda immediately stopped what she was doing near the supply rack and stalked to the girl’s desk. Prudence lifted the ladle carefully to Zelda’s lips as the three of them all held their breaths.

Zelda fanned out her fingers, examining her short, painted nails for any signs of change. “Nothing appears to be happening.”

“Yeah, Prudence, _nothing’s happening_,” said Nick, smirking.

“Professor…” started Prudence, winking at Sabrina as she did. It was time to test the spell. “Why don’t we forget about potions class for today?”

“_What _did you say?” said Zelda, her voice dripping malice.

“Umm…” began Prudence, losing her nerve.

“Forget about _potions_? The highest of the witch arts?” said Zelda, her face going red.

“…Yes?” said Prudence, holding her breath.

Suddenly, a strange look came over Zelda’s face. Sabrina put a hand to her mouth, terrified of whatever was about to happen.

“Why not?” said Zelda, her voice suddenly several notes higher.

Sneering in success at her handiwork, Prudence asked, "Really?"

“Of _course_!” Zelda said, flinging her arms wide. “Talented young witches and warlocks have much better things to be doing than making potions!”

“Are you being serious, Professor?” said Nick, starting to sense that they might have made a mistake. “Are we really being released early?”

“Why not?” Zelda said again before she started to giggle. Sabrina’s eyes went wide. She’d never heard her auntie giggle in her whole life. “You should all be free to go celebrate life while you’re young!”

“Auntie, but what about our potions? You said they all could explode like mine did if they’re made wrong,” said Sabrina, trying to use logic to break through whatever gleeful stupor had come over her aunt.

“Dear, sweet child, let me clean them all for you!”

With that, Zelda waved both arms wildly, her wand still tucked away in her robes. Wandless magic was volatile at best, dangerous at worst. The students all immediately ducked behind their desks, in case there was about to be a room full of explosions, but the cauldrons instead hovered up to the ceiling, suddenly empty and apparently…weightless.

“Auntie, you cleaned them, but you also…”

“Sabrina,” said Prudence, cutting her off. She shook her head, telling the half-witch to keep her mouth shut. “Professor Spellman did a marvelous job. Nick, would you be so kind as to increase the gravity upon our cauldrons?”

“Sure thing,” said Nick, bringing the cauldrons back down to their desks with ease. “That was some impressive magic, Professor Spellman. What did you do?”

But Zelda was no longer paying the students any attention, and was instead rummaging through the shelves once more, humming gayly.

“Guys…we can’t just leave her like this. Her magic isn’t stable. We need to give her the antidote—_now_.”

“That might be a problem,” said Prudence, her voice lacking its usual arrogance. When she looked up from her cauldron, her eyes were wide with fear. “We need a spoonful of the original personality changing potion to put in the antidote—and Professor Spellman just cleansed it all away!”


	2. eye of toad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith discovers what Sabrina, Nick, and Prudence have done. Concerned, she goes in search of Zelda Spellman, but is quite surprised by where (and in what state) she finds her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist giving you more! Please share your thoughts, even if it's just: "how dare you?!" (I do, indeed, dare!)

Lilith had been turning the morning’s unexpected events over in her mind ever since she left Zelda Spellman’s room. She didn’t know why she was fixating on the idea that Zelda and Faustus were engaged in some sort of affair—though, from what she had heard, it sounded like the relationship could be entirely one-sided, which was even more disturbing. She wasn’t at all surprised that Faustus would cheat on his wife, but she _was_ surprised that _Zelda_ would be the object of his desire. Not because she wasn’t beautiful—Merlin knew, Lilith had taken note of Miss Spellman’s beauty from the moment she set eyes on her—but because Faustus seemed to prefer women he could control, like the directrix of the choir, Constance. Lilith couldn’t imagine Faustus ever being successful in controlling Zelda, which brought a smile to her lips as she dismissed her second Transfiguration class of the day a few minutes early.

Her students gave her strange looks as they packed up their belongings and left. She understood that it was unusual for her to dismiss them early, but really, it was terribly rude to look at her as if she had grown another head. She just wanted a few extra minutes to walk to the potions classroom, so that she might accompany Miss Spellman to the Great Hall for lunch. As far as she was aware, that was hardly a crime, but as she headed down to the dungeons, a very anxious Sabrina collided with her on the stairs, nearly causing them both to go tumbling down.

“Miss Spellman! What on earth are you doing running on the stairs?” said Lilith, trying to catch her breath after the shock of a teenager’s full weight striking her.

“Professor Lilith!” said Sabrina, panting as she avoided Lilith’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry.”

“I can see that. _Why _are you in a hurry?”

Just then, she could hear the footsteps of two more students climbing the stairs in haste. Nicholas Scratch and Prudence Night nearly ran right into Sabrina, but stopped just before the collision happened upon seeing the Deputy Headmistress.

“Oh! Professor! What are you doing going down to the dungeons?” asked Prudence nervously.

Lilith looked between the three troublemakers with impatience. “One of you better confess—right this very moment—what is wrong. I have no patience for your mischief today.”

“You see, Professor…” began Nick Scratch, “we just finished our potions class, and we really need to find Professor Spellman.”

“What do you mean,_ find_ her? You were just with her, weren’t you?” said Lilith, worry creeping into her tone.

“We were,” said Sabrina. “What Nick meant to say is that we’re looking for…Aunt Hilda! You know, the other Professor Spellman.”

Lilith crossed her arms in disbelief. “I’m well aware that we have two professors of the same name, Sabrina. Are you saying that if I apparate at this very moment to the potions classroom, I will find Zelda Spellman exactly where she should be, preparing to leave her classroom for the Great Hall?”

“She might have already left,” said Prudence, quickly.

“Yeah, I think she said she had something to do before lunch!” Nicholas chimed in.

“Alright,” said Lilith with a sigh. “Who is going to tell me what’s really going on, or will I have to see you _all _in detention?”

The three students exchanged wary looks.

“Tell me _now_—or I will bring you to the Headmaster immediately, and let you explain yourselves to _him_ instead.”

Sabrina was the first to crack. “There’s been an accident.”

“What kind of accident?” said Lilith, impatiently. If she had a galleon for every “accident” Sabrina had caused, she would be the richest witch in all of Scotland.

“Prudence…made a mistake with her color-changing potion, and my auntie was the one to test it.”

Lilith looked between the three students, trying to sense if this was yet another deception being fed to her. They all looked properly guilty…

“Exactly what kind of ‘mistake’ was made? Is her health in danger?” said Lilith, thinking she ought to notify the infirmary immediately, but then, the whole reason she had been coming to see Zelda was that the infirmary was filled to capacity, and something needed to be done about it.

Sabrina started to cry, which shocked Lilith out of her thoughts.

“What’s wrong, girl?” said Lilith, fear rising in her throat. There was any number of terrible potion combinations that could cause permanent damage to a witch’s health.

Nicholas put his hand on Sabrina’s back soothingly. “We didn’t mean to hurt her—we were only trying to make her nicer.”

“Are you saying you _intentionally _gave your Professor the wrong potion?” said Lilith, her voice rising. How _dare_ these students violate a teacher’s trust so completely?

Prudence straightened her spine, turning up her nose in defiance. “It was only a joke. She’ll be fine once we figure out how to make the antidote.”

Lilith’s heart rose into her throat. “You gave your professor a potentially dangerous potion without checking you had the ability to make the antidote_ beforehand_? Has your magical education taught you _nothing_?”

Sabrina’s cries became even louder, echoing off the stone walls. Through her sobs, she said, “We’re sorry—we just—we need help! We can’t—let her stay—this way!”

“_What_ way?” said Lilith, though she was quickly losing interest in whatever these students had to say. It was urgent that she find Zelda Spellman—and the antidote—as soon as possible.

“It really isn’t that bad. She’s just—not herself,” said Nick, with an air of diplomacy that was vaguely absurd to Lilith, considering they had just committed a serious crime against their professor.

“She’s happier. What’s wrong with making her happy? She was singing and humming to herself like she hadn’t a care in the world. It’s not like we turned her into a frog or anything,” said Prudence, refusing to take responsibility in a way that made Lilith want to expel her on the spot.

“You three will go to Professor Hilda Spellman_ immediately_ and inform her of the situation. Hilda has a vast knowledge of antidotes, and should be able to help. I will use a locator spell to find your potions mistress—and you better pray I do find her, because if I do not, I will have you expelled from Hogwarts faster than you can say, ‘eye of toad,’ do you understand?”

“Yes, Professor,” the three students chorused, before passing her on the staircase.

While apparating within Hogwarts’ walls was against the rules for students, except when overseen by a Ministry of Magic Instructor, certain teachers could ask for special dispensation so that in the event of an emergency, apparition could be used to travel through the vast castle more quickly. Deciding that the intentional poisoning of a professor counted as an emergency, Lilith disappeared on the spot, cringing as she felt the familiar hook behind her navel.

When she reappeared, she was standing outside of Zelda’s room. She could have apparated directly into it, but that felt like too much of an invasion of privacy. Lifting her hand to knock, Lilith listened carefully to see if she could hear anyone behind the door. When no one answered, Lilith whispered an advanced unlocking spell, knowing that Miss Spellman would have only the most secure spells in place to keep the students out of her private business.

Stepping into the room gave Lilith a sense of déjà vu. She had only been in Zelda Spellman’s quarters a handful of times, and even then, those times had usually been for professional reasons. This morning had been the first time she had a professional _curiosity_ to share, rather than important school business.

Zelda had clearly never returned to her room after leaving for breakfast. Everything was just as it was when Lilith had left this morning. Walking over to the woman’s vanity, Lilith picked up her hairbrush. The locator spell required an object that belonged to the missing person, and Lilith had made one too many mistakes in the past where she chose an object that had either been borrowed or stolen from someone else. She could only imagine how many potential objects in Zelda Spellman’s room could really belong to Hilda, or even the late Headmaster, Edward Spellman.

Taking the brush in her hands, Lilith whispered the locator spell over it. The brush began to float away. Lilith struggled to open the door once more before it would bang into it. She had been following the spell for quite some time through the castle—receiving no small amount of curious glances from students—when she finally realized where the brush was taking her.

She came to a stop outside her own quarters, feeling quite lost. Why would the locator spell lead her back to her own room? Steeling herself, she tried the door, and was surprised to find that it was unlocked. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight she was greeted with upon opening the door.

There, lounging on Lilith’s bed in the center of the room, was Zelda Spellman, naked as the day she was born.


	3. howlet's wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith tries to keep Zelda from doing something she will regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a bit steamier than I expected (you're welcome). I've changed the rating, just to be safe, because you never know who might not want to read the sexy bits. This chapter took a long time to write, since I was nervous about all of the consent issues involved...but ultimately, I think I'm happy with the final result. Feel free to let me know whether or not you agree!

“Miss Spellman?!” said Lilith, immediately closing her eyes and holding a hand up for the sake of propriety. Even with her eyes closed, however, Lilith could still see the glorious sight of her naked colleague etched into the underside of her eyelids.

“Welcome home, Lilith,” Zelda purred, and for the love of Lucifer, Lilith couldn’t keep from shivering at the pure lust in the woman’s voice. “Have you eaten yet? Would you like to have something more…satisfying?”

Lilith’s brain didn’t immediately register the meaning of those words. She was too busy thinking about how the voice sounded like liquid velvet. Pulling herself together, she ignored Zelda’s questions entirely, in favor of getting straight to the heart of the matter. “Miss Spellman, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, darling,” said Zelda, her voice suddenly much closer, which surprised Lilith enough that she forgot, for a moment, exactly why her eyes were closed, and opened them to see Zelda standing right in front of her, without an ounce of embarrassment or modesty at her nakedness.

“Why are you…?” Lilith couldn’t force the word, “naked,” out of her mouth, so she let the words trail off as she turned sharply to the left and walked over to her desk, where her green robe was currently draped over the back of the chair.

“…here?” offered Zelda quite unhelpfully, following close behind Lilith. Her hips swayed with every step, which Lilith was pointedly trying to ignore as she picked up the robe.

“Well, yes, I would like to know the answer to that, but I was also wondering if you wouldn’t mind putting this on?” said Lilith, averting her eyes as she offered the robe to Zelda.

Zelda took the robe, but made no move to put it on. Instead, she draped it right back over the chair, and moved into Lilith’s personal space.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” said Zelda, her voice deeper than Lilith had ever heard it.

“I am—I mean, yes, I suppose—” fumbled Lilith, trying to keep herself from reacting as Zelda flung her arms around Lilith’s neck and pressed their bodies together. Before she knew it, Zelda’s mouth was on her own. Lilith’s hands went immediately to the woman’s hips, trying to push her body away. But Zelda was not to be deterred; she just deepened the kiss. Spells raced through Lilith’s mind—spells to incapacitate, to freeze, to soothe—but with a tongue currently slipping its way into her mouth, there wasn’t really an opportunity to spell-cast, and even if there were, Lilith would be far too afraid of the spell going wrong, since she was certainly lacking in focus, discipline, and the ability to perform magic safely at the moment.

After a few seconds that felt like centuries, Zelda pulled back, sighing in contentment. Then, she rested her head against Lilith’s shoulder, as if the kiss had knocked the wind out of _her_, as well.

“Zelda…” Lilith started, trying to catch her breath. “Do you remember your potions class today?”

Zelda hummed, but whether it was in acknowledgment of what she had said or satisfaction at being so close, Lilith couldn’t tell. “Well, I… I went looking for you, after your students told me something…bad had happened. When you weren’t in your room, I got worried…”

Something shifted, then. Lilith felt Zelda’s body go stiff against her. Slowly, so as not to spook her, Lilith reached behind her, took up the robe once more, and flung it like a cape around Zelda’s shoulders. Zelda, for her part, didn’t react at all, just let Lilith wrap the fabric around her body as if she were a child—or a doll.

This sudden docility was deeply unsettling. She had never seen Zelda Spellman surrender so easily in all the time that she had known her.

“Zelda?” said Lilith, worriedly, as she helped the woman put her arms through the sleeves of the robe. It didn’t quite fit her—Lilith was just a tad bit shorter and thinner than the other witch—but at least she was somewhat covered up, now. Zelda’s body was loose and obliging as Lilith dressed her. The intimacy of the moment was nearly more than Lilith could handle, but she couldn’t afford to forget that this was the potion at work, not a genuine moment between them.

“I couldn’t go to my room. So, I came here,” said Zelda, her eyes very far away. Shaking her head, as if to clear the cobwebs, she continued, “Aren’t you pleased?”

Lilith paused as she was tying the robe tightly around the woman’s waist. “I’m pleased that I found you. But what do you mean, you couldn’t go to your room?”

Instead of answering, Zelda slipped away. Lilith nearly tugged on the robe to keep her in place, but thought better of it. The woman was clearly not in her right mind. She was going to kill those meddlesome children for doing this to a member of the Hogwarts staff without thinking of the consequences. There would be a mandatory workshop on the subject of magical consent forthwith, if she had anything to say about it.

“I’d rather be doing something better than talking,” said Zelda, sitting down on the edge of the bed before leaning back, so that she was propped up by her elbows. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Lilith had no idea how to proceed. She couldn’t very well accept any of Zelda’s advances when she was drugged, but she also didn’t want to turn her down so insistently that Zelda would seek out someone else’s bed. Just the thought of Blackwood seeing Zelda in this vulnerable position set her teeth on edge. Satan only knew what he would do with her in this highly suggestible state.

Suddenly, Lilith realized why Zelda hadn’t gone back to her own room, and she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it sooner. “Zelda, when I came to your bedroom earlier, I heard something…unexpected.”

“Oh?” said Zelda, absently, running a hand down her now-clothed body in an enticing manner. Lilith bit her lip, hard, to remind herself that she needed to be the rational one in this situation.

“Blackwood was there,” Lilith pressed, coming closer to the bed. Zelda looked flushed—almost feverish. She hoped Hilda Spellman could identify the antidote sooner rather than later. There was no telling what kind of ramifications there would be if they took too long to counteract the potion.

Quick as a flash, Zelda launched herself from the bed, grabbed Lilith by the arms, turned their bodies, and pushed Lilith backwards, onto the bed. Lilith was so shocked by the suddenness of it all that she didn’t react until she was flat on her back, with Zelda straddling her hips.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” said Zelda, before leaning down to place feather-light kisses on Lilith’s neck. “If I don’t have you right now, I feel like my body is going to explode.”

Lilith tried to lean away from Zelda’s lips, but she didn’t have much leverage with her body pinned between Zelda’s knees. One of Zelda’s hands was stroking Lilith’s collarbone through her clothes, and seemed ready to travel lower.

“That’s the potion talking. Listen to me, Zelda. _It’s very important that you listen.” _Lilith grabbed Zelda’s wandering hands and held them tightly—perhaps too tightly—by the wrists, to keep them still. “You’ve been drugged, Zelda. The drug is making you do things you wouldn’t normally do—”

“Who says I wouldn’t normally do this? I’ve wanted to for years,” said Zelda, her expression changing from lust to innocent confusion in an instant. It was strange to see, almost as if a switch had been flipped inside her.

Taking advantage of the woman’s brief bewilderment, Lilith moved her grip from Zelda’s wrists to her upper arms and pulled her sharply to the side before rolling on top of her, effectively switching their positions. Zelda’s body was pliant and yielding beneath her, which, with any other circumstances, might have been enticing, but now, it only made Lilith’s stomach flip. Clearly, Zelda would let her do anything, so long as it was on the road to consummation, and that was a terrifying thought.

“You could’ve told me you wanted to be on top. I much prefer the bottom, anyway,” said Zelda, a devilish smile curling her lips upward.

Lilith’s mind was racing, and so was her heart. She had Zelda’s arms pinned above her head, and she was currently sitting on the woman’s lower abdomen to keep her from moving, but Zelda kept wiggling beneath her, which was having a very…noticeable effect on Lilith’s body. She needed a way to end this, but all of the magical measures she could take seemed either too extreme or unhelpful in the long run. She could magically bind Zelda, but that might make the woman panic. She could give her a sleeping draft—Lilith was sure she had some in her desk—but the potion might negatively interact with the one that was already in her system. She could call for help—surely, Hilda would know what to do…?

“Have I done something wrong?” said Zelda suddenly, desperately, her eyes going wide. Lilith was confused by yet another sharp turn in the woman’s emotions. What in heaven had the students given her? This wasn’t a typical personality-changing potion. They must have given her too much, or made a major mistake in the brewing process…

“Why do you say that?” asked Lilith, wanting to let the woman’s arms go, but nervous that that might just start the whole seduction process over again if she did.

“I’ve done something wrong; I know I have,” said Zelda, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Zelda… _you’ve_ done nothing wrong. It’s just… you’ve been drugged, and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” said Lilith, her heart breaking at the way Zelda seemed to feel the need to hide from her.

“I promise I’ll be good,” Zelda said, turning to look at Lilith once more with earnestness and—was that fear? —in her eyes. “I’ll be good, I swear! I’ll do_ anything_ you want.”

“Zelda, I’m not going to hurt you. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself,” said Lilith, loosening her grip on Zelda’s wrists to test the waters. When Zelda remained completely still, she let them go entirely.

“But I deserve punishment,” said Zelda, her eyes closing. “Please give it to me.”

Overwhelmed by an intense bout of nausea, Lilith scrambled off of the bed, leaving Zelda free to move.

“No, Zelda, that’s not—I’m not—you don’t deserve punishment. Why would you—?”

“I need to go,” said Zelda, slowly sitting up and wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold. “I know _he’ll_ help me.”

When Zelda tried to rush past Lilith, Lilith cast a spell to lock the door from the inside.

“Let me out!” shouted Zelda, pulling on the doorknob without success. “You can’t keep me here!”

“Who is ‘he’?” said Lilith, ignoring Zelda’s protests.

“Professor Blackwood,” said Zelda, pushing her full weight against the door, as if she could break it down by force.

“What will he do to… ‘help?’”

“That’s none of your business,” said Zelda, raising her hand to summon her wand, but realizing with a jolt that it wouldn’t come. “What happened to my wand?”

“I have no idea,” said Lilith, honestly, thinking that it was probably in the same place as the woman’s missing clothes. “Now, let’s go back to Blackwood. Why do you want to see him?”

“So he can make this feeling go away,” said Zelda, wringing her hands and beginning to pace.

“What feeling?” said Lilith, but she was interrupted by knocking on her window.

Stolas, her owl, was tapping his beak against the glass. Quickly, Lilith went to the window to open it. There was a letter from Hilda attached to its leg.

_Urgently attempting to brew an antidote. Time is of the essence. When you find my sister, keep her busy—and whatever you do, don’t let her near Blackwood._

“Zelda?” said Lilith, still looking at the letter in disbelief. “Zelda,_ what _feeling will he make go away?” But when Lilith finally tore her eyes away from the paper, she realized that her room was now empty.

Zelda was gone.


	4. fire burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda just wants the pain to end, but Lilith can't let that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! Sorry for the long wait. Please let me know what you think. I would also like to assure you that I am aware that this is a really messed up chapter, and the intention is that everyone involved (except Blackwood) understands how messed up it is. I am not trying to glorify anything. This is essentially a "sex pollen" situation, and there is absolutely no excuse for what Faustus does in this fic.
> 
> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter depicts an attempted rape. Lilith intervenes, but it still gets really intense.

Faustus Blackwood was in the middle of a meeting with Professor Lovecraft when Zelda appeared, slightly off balance, behind his desk.

“Professor Spellman!” said Lovecraft, his eyes going wide at the sight of Zelda in Lilith’s incredibly revealing green robe.

“Zelda, what is the meaning of this intrusion?” said Blackwood, leaning back in his chair as he raked his eyes over the woman beside him.

“Professor Lovecraft, my apologies,” said Zelda, slightly out of breath as she pulled her robe tighter across her chest for the sake of modesty. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with the Headmaster. Would you be so kind as to…”

“Y-Yes, of course,” stuttered Professor Lovecraft, tearing his eyes away from the neckline of her robe before making an immediate exit.

Once their unwitting spectator was gone, Faustus reached out a hand to beckon Zelda closer. When she was within his reach, he pulled her onto his lap.

“Have you come to apologize?” Faustus said, placing one hand on Zelda’s hip while the other took hold of her chin.

“Yes,” Zelda breathed, reaching to undo the clasp of Faustus’ robe, but she was prevented from completing the motion when Faustus grabbed her wrists in an iron grip.

“No,” Faustus growled. “We move at my pace, not yours. Understood?”

“Please,” Zelda begged, trying to wrench her wrists from his painfully strong hold, “I need you.”

Suddenly, Zelda was yanked from his lap, as if by invisible hands, and laid across Blackwood’s desk. Supplies and papers went flying as her back hit the wood so hard the air was knocked right out of her lungs. The invisible hands pinned her wrists above her head as Faustus came to stand between her legs. Faustus traced a finger up her left thigh in a sickeningly sweet mockery of tenderness.

“_I_ needed you this morning, and you denied me.”

“I was wrong,” said Zelda, sucking in a sharp breath as Faustus pulled her legs farther apart, his grip crushing.

“I should leave you here, like this,” Faustus said idly as a third invisible hand began to untie her robe. “Let anyone who needs to speak with the Headmaster stumble upon you here, naked and wanting, bound to my desk. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being seen in such a… compromising position?”

With that, Faustus moved away, though she was still pinned to the desk by invisible bounds.

“No, Faustus, you don’t understand,” said Zelda, trying to wrench herself free of the binding spell, but too weak to overpower his magic. “Something’s…not right, and I need you to help me.”

Faustus circled the desk like a lion stalking its prey. “You’ve yet to give me a good reason as to why I should do _anything_ for you.”

“Then why don’t you punish me?” encouraged Zelda, her muscles screaming as she kept trying in vain to break the spell keeping her tied to the desk. “You’ve said it yourself—you needed me earlier, and now you have me. So—just do it.”

Faustus caressed her cheek as he stood over her head. Zelda didn’t like looking at his upside-down face hanging over her, but she couldn’t do anything to change their positions.

“I would, if I thought you’d learned your lesson. As it is, I think you need to suffer first. How many times do I have to tell you: agony before ecstasy?”

With that, Zelda was flipped onto her stomach by Faustus’ magic. He moved to stand behind her once again, grabbing her arms so that they were forced behind her back.

“Faustus, stop, you don't understand—” Zelda began, but she was cut off when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled, forcing her to arch her back.

“I think it’s time for_ you_ to stop talking,” Faustus whispered harshly in her ear. _“Silencio!”_

Up until that point, Zelda had been willing to endure anything, if only to make the feeling inside of her go away. But something about having her voice forcibly taken from her made everything suddenly…unbearable. She could feel Faustus lifting Lilith’s robe up to her waist; hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone. Panic rose inside her. Suddenly, everything felt wrong, wrong, wrong. There was something inside her begging for release at the same time that there was another voice begging for it all to stop.

Zelda tried to scream, but the silencing charm wouldn’t break. Just as she felt a cold hand spank her hard on the behind, Lilith appeared out of thin air in front of her.

Humiliation mixed with relief as their eyes met.

* * *

Lilith tried to remain calm after reading Hilda’s note. The words: _whatever you do, don’t let her near Blackwood _made her stomach twist. She’d had only one job—to keep Zelda safe until the antidote could be brewed—and she had already failed.

Just then, there was a knock on her door. Hoping it was Zelda, Lilith said, “Enter.”

“Professor Lilith!” said Sabrina as she threw open the door. “Have you found my Auntie Zee?”

Not eager to tell a sixteen-year-old girl that her aunt was now practically naked, running loose throughout the castle, she lied, “No, no I haven’t, Sabrina.”

“The spell didn’t work?” Sabrina said, her eyes wide and fearful.

“It did work, but the moment I found her, she disappeared again,” said Lilith in a rush.

“This is all my fault!” cried Sabrina. “If I hadn’t messed up my potion—if I’d only paid more attention—none of this would’ve happened.”

As encouraging as it was to hear that Sabrina seemed to have realized for the first time in her life that her actions had consequences, Lilith was still eager to be rid of her. “What’s done is done, Sabrina. Now we just need to focus our energy on making things right.”

“But how?” asked Sabrina with tears in her eyes. “Prudence messed up the personality-changing potion. She put in too many rose thorns and too little powdered moonstone. It’s—it’s actually —a _lust _potion.”

Lilith closed her eyes, placing a hand to her forehead. Things were even worse than she thought.

“Sabrina, as I said, what’s important now is that we clean up this mess before it gets out of hand. Now, I need to be going,” said Lilith, preparing to apparate.

“I’m coming with you!” said Sabrina, launching herself towards Lilith and grabbing onto her arm. Luckily, Lilith realized what she was intending to do before she’d completely focused on the spot in Blackwood’s office where she wanted to appear.

“No, you absolutely are _not_,” said Lilith, wrenching her arm away from the teenager as she thought about just what kind of situation she might be about to interrupt. There was no way that she was going to let Sabrina see her aunt in such a state.

“You have to let me help!” insisted Sabrina.

“Listen to me, Sabrina,” said Lilith, trying to keep her tone even. “If you really want to help, you need to go back to your Aunt Hilda and assist with the antidote.”

“But I want to help _you_,” said Sabrina, which was just typical. If ever there were a girl that didn’t know when to quit, it was this one.

“Go,” commanded Lilith, and with a flick of her wrist, she transferred Sabrina outside, to Greenhouse Three, where Hilda Spellman was most likely to be. Then, taking a deep breath, she focused intently on the spot in Faustus’ office where she wanted to reappear, not knowing if she should pray that Zelda was or _wasn’t_ there, but nothing could’ve prepared Lilith for the sight that greeted her when she rematerialized in the Headmaster’s office. Zelda Spellman was bent over the desk, and Faustus was behind her, hitting her on the—

Lilith saw red. Not pausing for a moment, she pulled out her wand and, without thinking about the ramifications of her actions for even a moment, shouted: _“Crucio!”_

Faustus was thrown backwards, onto the floor, with his pants around his ankles. He howled in agony as his body convulsed. Lilith wasn’t moved by his cries; she couldn’t get the image of him standing behind Zelda, ready to take her, out of her head.

It wasn’t until she heard Zelda cry out her name that she ceased performing the Cruciatus Curse. Instead, she snarled another spell: “_Immobulus_!” before turning to Zelda, who was still bound to the desk.

“Zelda!” Lilith said, her heart breaking at the sight. As quickly as she could, she undid the magical bindings that held the woman down. Zelda’s body trembled beneath her hands as she lifted her up off of the desk and guided her to sit in Faustus’ chair instead. “Are you alright?”

Zelda’s whole body was shaking, whether from adrenaline, fear, or the potion, Lilith couldn’t be sure.

“I—my body feels—_wrong_,” Zelda whispered, burying her head in her hands. The silencing spell had been broken the moment Lilith cast the Cruciatus Curse. “Please, make it go away. Make it stop.”

“Zelda,” Lilith whispered, kneeling before her and taking her hands, so that she would be forced to stop hiding behind them. “Zelda, the potion is making you feel this way. Your sister is working on the antidote. You just need to hold on for a little bit longer.”

“I can’t,” Zelda sobbed, wrenching her hands from Lilith as if the touch burned her. “I can’t stand it. Please, I’m _begging_ you, Lilith, make it go away.”

“I can’t do that,” said Lilith, her stomach flipping at the thought that Zelda believed her to be no better than Blackwood—that she expected her to take advantage of the potion’s effects. “Zelda, it won’t be long now. Why don’t we get you back to your room?”

Lilith spared a glance at Blackwood, who was lying, frozen, a few feet away. Now that her own adrenaline was wearing off, it occurred to her that she had performed an Unforgivable Curse on the Headmaster.

“You should have let him do it,” Zelda said, her voice completely lacking of any emotion.

A wave of nausea crashed over Lilith. “He_ bound _you to the desk, Zelda! He was going to…to rape you.”

“I know,” said Zelda, her eyes blank. “And I’m telling you, you should have let him. There will be hell to pay for what you’ve done.”

“Then I’ll pay it,” insisted Lilith, taking Zelda’s hands once more. “Let’s go.”

With that, Lilith apparated them back to Zelda’s room, leaving Blackwood with his pants around his ankles, immobilized on the floor of his office.


	5. cauldron bubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith sees no choice but to help Zelda solve her problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I'm blushing already just thinking of other people reading it.
> 
> Content Warning: This is essentially a "fuck or die" situation. Consent is explicitly given (multiple times), though it is possible that some people will nevertheless feel that Zelda continues to be incapable of consent in her state. If reading this will distress you, please click away now. I do not write this situation lightly. I hope that it is being given the nuance and weight that it deserves.

When Zelda and Lilith reappeared in Zelda’s room, Lilith’s heart sank at the way her colleague was still shaking as she sat down on the bed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” said Lilith, eyeing the sweat that was forming on Zelda’s brow.

“You _know_ what you can do to help me,” said Zelda, pressing a hand into her chest, as if she were in pain. “My sister is a brilliant witch, but she’s not divine. She can’t make something out of nothing. I destroyed any chance I had of a magical solution when I cleansed all of the original potion away.”

“You know why I can’t… ‘help,’” said Lilith, coming to kneel in front of her. “I won’t have sex with you in this state. You’re not fit to be making those kinds of decisions.”

“My mind is perfectly clear,” said Zelda, brushing a hand angrily across her forehead. “It might not have been earlier, when the potion’s effects were just starting to take hold of me—but you can hardly blame _me_ for that. I’ll need to talk to Prudence about her completely reckless use of rose thorns.”

“_Why _was she trying to change your personality?” asked Lilith as she got up to retrieve a handkerchief from the nightstand for Zelda to dab at the sweat.

“I said something… harsh to my niece,” said Zelda, accepting the handkerchief with a shaking hand. “I was wrong to say it, but this… this is more than enough punishment.”

Lilith thought that was possibly the biggest understatement the witch could have said. Zelda would rather let herself be raped than endure the potion’s effects any longer—which said volumes about how intolerable the effects must be.

“At least now that the potion is being broken down by my body, I’m in more control. It’s like drinking too much witch’s brew too fast. It takes a while for the body to process the alcohol, but the longer you wait, the more sober you are. Except that this potion will just remain in my blood stream indefinitely, because a witch’s body _can’t _process it out.”

“Are you saying you’re going to be in this state… forever?” said Lilith, taking a seat beside Zelda to offer what little physical comfort she could.

“No,” Zelda breathed, fanning herself as if she were suddenly unbearably hot. “I would estimate that I have about three more hours before it kills me.”

“What?!” said Lilith, placing her hand on Zelda’s knee. This was a mistake, as Lilith had forgotten that Zelda was wearing her robe, and that there would be no fabric in between her hand and the soft skin of Zelda’s leg. “What do you mean, ‘before it kills you?’”

Zelda closed her eyes. “Don’t mistake my stillness for calm. I’m in agony. It feels like there’s fire in my blood. It’s almost like I’m being flayed alive from the inside, and I’m so nauseous with… _need_, I don’t think I’d even be able to keep a glass of water down. If I didn’t know any better, I would think Prudence had _intended_ to make this potion for the sole purpose of torture. Who needs Dementors when you can drive your professor mad with everyday ingredients?”

“But how is it _killing_ you?” said Lilith, standing up to pace. She needed to think. There must be a solution, besides the one that Zelda seemed to think was necessary. “Surely, it can’t be so lethal that it would kill you within twelve hours of drinking it?”

“I warned the children. It’s low-level magic, but if done incorrectly…” said Zelda, swaying a bit as she did. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to lie down.”

Lilith stopped pacing in order to help Zelda lean back onto her bed. With great tenderness, and no small amount of terror, Lilith covered her colleague with a blanket. Zelda shivered, as if she had fever and chills in rapid succession.

“I’m not leaving,” said Lilith, her eyes going wide at the way Zelda pressed her face into her pillow, as if to keep from screaming.

“Truly, if you aren’t going to help me, I need to be alone now,” said Zelda, her voice muffled by the pillows, before she lifted her head. “It’s taking all of my self-control not to jump you like I did earlier.”

Lilith’s heart broke at the thought of leaving Zelda alone to die. She couldn’t—no, _wouldn’t_—let that happen.

“Zelda?”

“Yes?”

Zelda looked to be at the end of her strength. Her eyes were glassy and her skin had gone stark white.

“Are you sure your mind is clear?”

“As crystal,” said Zelda, moaning the word as her body contorted in pain. “The potion is solely attacking my body now. I could recite to you the ingredients and preparation required to make a Polyjuice potion—the most difficult of all potions—if I wanted to, but I couldn’t fly a broomstick. I won’t fly one ever again.”

Lilith saw a stray tear fall from the corner of Zelda’s eye and reached to wipe it away. “Hilda’s going to find a way to help you. I know she will.”

“Lilith,” said Zelda, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to die.”

Lilith’s heart well and truly shattered at that. The reality of the situation was finally sinking in. This was life and death, and Zelda wasn’t ready to resign herself to the latter.

“If…” Lilith began, but the word got caught in her throat, “if I… if_ we_ were to do this… you wouldn’t consider it a violation?”

“No,” insisted Zelda, her voice gaining just a little bit of strength as hope filled her eyes. “I know you think it’s wrong—and I understand why—but Lilith, the potion isn’t what brought me to your room earlier.”

“It’s not?” said Lilith, confusion clear on her face.

“No,” said Zelda, struggling to sit up. Lilith placed a hand on her back to help support her. “This morning, when you came to my room to tell me about the book you’d read… I saw your eyes wandering over my nightgown.”

Lilith’s face flushed crimson. “I—well, I—”

“—and I felt desire for you,” Zelda interrupted. “The kind that makes you hot all over—_without_ a potion.”

Lilith’s mouth fell open.

Embarrassed at her own honesty, and Lilith’s responding silence, Zelda’s eyes flitted down and away. “Listen to me, talking like a lovesick teenager. But the truth is, when we were originally going to meet up to discuss the witch-flu potion, I had planned to ask you out to dinner. Obviously, those plans were…altered.”

Lilith had trouble processing the idea that Zelda Spellman wanted her _before _the potion had driven her to act on those desires.

Zelda reached a trembling hand to caress Lilith’s cheek. “I don’t just want your body. I want _you_. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I knew that Faustus wouldn’t stand to let anyone else have me.”

Zelda’s voice faded away as Lilith’s jaw clenched at the reminder of what Faustus had been planning to do. “You and Blackwood have a complicated history, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Lilith and Zelda stared into each other’s eyes for a while, neither one wanting to be the first one to break the gaze. Finally, Zelda shook with a full-body tremor, and she was forced to look away.

“Zelda, are you sure this is what you want?” Lilith said as she moved her body so that she was kneeling on the bed.

“If you ask me that one more time, I think I might spontaneously combust,” said Zelda, letting her body flop back down onto the pillows.

“I just don’t want this to be something you regret once the spell is broken,” said Lilith, slowly moving to straddle Zelda’s waist.

“The only thing I regret,” said Zelda, reaching up to pull Lilith closer by the neck, “is how long it’s taken to get to this point.”

With that, Zelda kissed Lilith_ hard_. There was urgency to the kiss, but also an edge of gentleness. That was the only way Lilith could describe it—an “edge” of gentleness. Zelda had one hand firm on the back of Lilith’s neck while the other wove its way into her mane of brown hair.

Things happened rather quickly after that. Zelda was gloriously naked once more, though Lilith couldn’t pinpoint the moment when the robe had been discarded. Lilith lavished attention on each of Zelda’s breasts before traveling lower, kissing as she went.

“Lilith, I love this—I really do—and I want it to be good for you, too… but I just… I _need_ you. Right. Now.”

Placing one last kiss below Zelda’s belly button, Lilith spread Zelda’s thighs with gentle hands, taking note of the bruises that were already forming where Faustus had clutched them earlier. Anger rose inside Lilith like the tide during a full moon. She didn’t want to let the rage show on her face, however, so she simply placed a brief kiss on each inner thigh before moving on to Zelda’s center.

The witch beneath her was already the wettest she had ever seen a woman—no doubt from being driven nearly to madness by a lust potion. Though she would prefer to take her time, it would seem that time was a luxury they couldn’t afford, so she got right to it.

Zelda was moaning and squirming in no time. Lilith placed a hand on the woman’s stomach to keep her from moving so much. She focused all of her attention on the clitoris, drawing circles with her tongue and sucking _just so_ until the woman was coming hard all over her face.

Lilith went back to kissing Zelda’s thighs, smiling as she found a spot close to her right knee that was quite ticklish. But just as Lilith was kissing back up Zelda’s body, giving specific attention to the pulse point in Zelda’s neck, there was a small “pop” from somewhere near the foot of the bed, followed by a scream.

_“Zelds?!”_


	6. toil and trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda attempts to brew an antidote for her sister. Lovecraft returns to the Headmaster's office to discover him frozen on the floor--and quite exposed! Lilith is attacked for a crime she didn't commit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologize for the wait. I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Please let me know what you think. I very rarely explore male voices/perspectives in my work, so doing part of this chapter from Professor Lovecraft's point of view was an interesting challenge. This chapter backtracks to show what other characters were doing while Lilith and Zelda were "breaking the spell."
> 
> Many thanks to @somethingwicked19 for her support, not just of me, but of the Black Lives Matter movement.
> 
> Content Warning: Hilda is quite certain Lilith raped her sister in this chapter. There is some violence as a result of that assumption.

“Professor Spellman!”

“Professor!”

“Auntie! Auntie, we need your help!”

Hilda sighed. She was just about to make her way to the Great Hall for lunch. How was it that Sabrina always managed to get into mischief right before meal times? She’d been looking forward to having some soup and a sandwich, as Hilda could feel the beginnings of a cold coming on, and did not like the idea of having to go to the infirmary, what with the witch-flu making its way through the student body.

“Yes, loves?” said Hilda, trying to sound patient as she took off her gardening gloves. Looking upon the three young faces of the hell-raisers, she tried to gauge just how much of a mess she’d need to clean up before Faustus Blackwood got wind of whatever it was that they did.

Hilda rarely took small disciplinary matters to the Headmaster, as she was not a fan of Faustus Blackwood, and there was no doubt the feeling was mutual. They’d been cold but civil to one another for going on seven years—ever since she’d spent a full day searching for her sister, worried something terrible had befallen her. When Hilda finally found Zelda, she was coming up out of the dungeons with a staggering step. Once she’d gotten her sister back to her room, she demanded answers, and it was then that Zelda eventually told her that Faustus had strung her up in the dungeon and left her there for eight hours, naked and flogged, as part of some sadistic sex game.

Hilda longed for the day she could make him pay for it, but she’d thought that was the end of Zelda and Faustus’ affair, as he married Constance a short time after.

But while she had no desire to bring the children’s latest mishap to Faustus, from the panic and guilt on her niece’s face, this might be a matter for the Deputy Headmistress, at the very least.

“We need help making an antidote,” said Sabrina in a rush, her eyes wide and wet, as if she’d been crying.

“An antidote? Why? For what?” Hilda asked, her brow furrowing as all three students avoided her gaze, refusing to answer the question. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what you did, loves.”

“It was Prudence’s idea,” Sabrina said as she shifted her weight anxiously from one foot to the other. “I told her not to!”

“It was only a joke,” scowled Prudence. “I don’t understand why everyone’s making such a big deal out of this.”

Nick was the one to finally meet Hilda’s eyes and tell her what was going on.

“We played a trick on Mistress Spellman.”

Hilda let out the breath she’d been holding. From all the buildup, she’d been sure they’d done a wonky transfiguration spell and needed help reanimating someone.

With a relieved chuckle, she said, “Is that all? Merlin, you had me scared for a moment. You got in a good laugh at my sister’s expense, did you? Well, serves her right for being so strict with you lot all the time.”

“But there’s a problem,” said Sabrina, her voice going shrill. “A _big_ problem. The antidote needs some of the original potion, and Auntie Zee _vanished_ it all.”

The smile slid off Hilda’s face. “What kind of potion was it?” Panic rose in her chest as the students refused to answer. “_Oi!_ Start talking! This could be time-sensitive. Magical pranks are all fun and games until a witch is cursed for the rest of her life.”

“It was only a personality-changing potion,” Prudence insisted, though the look in her eyes told Hilda that she knew the weight of her words.

Hilda’s stomach dropped. “_Only_ a personality-changing potion? Are you mad? A potion that alters a witch’s entire being is _not_ to be trifled with.”

“We know that _now_,” said Nick, quickly. “Professor Lilith said as much and sent us to you for help.”

Hilda was already summoning ingredients to her workstation. “I need you to tell me _exactly _what you did. The ingredients, the measurements, the brewing process. There’s no room—or _time_—for error.”

* * *

Professor Lovecraft hadn’t strayed very far from the Headmaster’s office. In fact, after he’d taken the spiral griffin staircase down to the bottom, it occurred to him that he’d never actually succeeded in getting the Headmaster’s approval on the potentially dangerous but essential lesson he’d planned to do with his seventh-years this afternoon.

What was he to do? He couldn’t execute the lesson without the Headmaster’s signature, but all rational thought had left Lovecraft’s mind when he’d taken note of Professor Spellman’s revealing attire. In truth, he’d _more_ than just taken note; the image of Zelda Spellman dressed in no more than a green robe with a severely plunging neckline was sure to feature in several of his personal fantasies in the coming days (perhaps, more honestly and specifically, _nights_). He was growing uncomfortably aroused just thinking about it.

Lovecraft highly doubted that Blackwood would be interested in discussing lesson plans after his rendezvous with the potion’s mistress, but it needed to be done. Professor Lovecraft wasn’t about to lose an entire afternoon of N.E.W.T preparation with his most advanced students just because Faustus Blackwood was having his… _needs…_ rather publicly met by someone who wasn’t his wife.

After ten minutes of indecision, Lovecraft finally managed to talk himself into repeating the password: “_Black Licorice_,” which commanded the griffin staircase to move up once more. As the staircase rose, Lovecraft took care to cast several charms of protection to ensure Blackwood wouldn’t be able to hex him when he arrived at the door.

The office was eerily quiet… though Lovecraft recalled that Blackwood had some strange proclivities when it came to carnality.

“Headmaster? Professor Spellman?”

There was no response.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I really need your signature on my lesson as soon as possible, Professor Blackwood!”

When there was still no indication that either professor was behind the door, Lovecraft thought_: to hell with it_, and pushed the handle. After all, it was hardly_ his_ fault if he should bear witness to something private, since he’d given ample announcement of his presence, and this was meant to be _his _appointment to begin with.

Besides, he’d attended a fair share of orgies in his time, and was fairly certain neither Blackwood nor Mistress Spellman was particularly shy. His student days at Hogwarts overlapped with both of them, though he hadn’t known either very well—except by reputation.

Oh, the stories he’d heard…

Stepping into the office, Lovecraft immediately realized that Blackwood’s office was not currently as depraved and vigorous a setting as he’d expected it to be. This lack of exhibition caused him a surprising amount of disappointment (which was truly shameful, though Lovecraft had always known he was a man of certain appetites). He quickly came to the conclusion that Faustus and Zelda must have found a new location for their tryst, and so decided to collect the papers he’d brought to the office earlier and try to find the Headmaster at lunch instead.

But as Lovecraft approached the desk, he realized that its contents were scattered on the ground. Perhaps the two professors had made use of the office after all…

Professor Lovecraft sighed. He had no idea which of the strewn papers was his lesson approval page. Bending down to pick up the ones closest to him, his eyes were drawn to a pair of feet poking out from behind the desk.

“Galloping gargoyles!” Lovecraft exclaimed, rounding the desk to discover Faustus Blackwood frozen on the ground, in a decidedly… undressed state. Lovecraft held up a hand to block his otherwise unimpeded view of Blackwood’s “wand,” but not before he took note that it was smaller than he’d thought.

Lovecraft’s mind raced. It wasn’t every day a wizard found the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry lying exposed on the floor of his office. He imagined Zelda Spellman must have been the one to immobilize Faustus… but why? She’d seemed in a willing enough mood, if a bit uncharacteristically coquettish.

Whatever the reason, Lovecraft couldn’t leave Blackwood lying there, no matter how amusing he found the whole situation. With a flick of his wand, he cast a counter-spell.

_“Finite incantatem!”_

* * *

“Prudence, are you _quite sure_ you put in that many rose thorns?” said Hilda, scandalized as she brewed a new potion. The more the children told her, the more terrified she became.

Prudence crossed her arms. “I was trying to do it as fast as I could, before Professor Spellman saw.”

“Do you understand how dangerous that is? The entire art and craft of potion making relies on you taking your time and understanding the _purpose_ of each ingredient,” said Hilda as she stirred the cauldron, watching as the mixture turned from dark purple to a deep magenta. “You’re lucky that I’m Hogwarts’ never-bested, all-time reigning champion bubbler.”

“So, does that mean you can make the antidote?” said Sabrina hopefully, flinching as pungent smoke began to billow from the cauldron.

“It means we have a chance,” murmured Hilda, looking up from the cauldron to regard the three delinquents seriously. “I’m afraid what you made _wasn’t_ a personality-changing potion.”

“Are you sure?” said Nick, furrowing his brow. “Prudence might’ve made some mistakes, but doesn’t that just mean it’s too strong?”

“At this point I would usually ask ‘who taught you potions?’ but it would be an insult to my sister—and I _know _she taught you better,” said Hilda, before summoning the Deputy Headmistress’ owl, Stolas. As quickly as she could, she composed a message and tied it to the owl’s leg while the potion simmered.

“What are you doing, Auntie?”

“It wasn’t a personality potion you made, loves,” said Hilda, lifting the owl into the air, and watching as it flew back out an open window of the greenhouse. She turned back to the three students, a grave expression on her face. “It was a lust potion.”

Just then, the potion curdled. Hilda swore like Sabrina had never heard her swear before.

“_Think_, children! Think. I assume the original potion didn’t curdle, or else my sister would never have tested it herself. How did you make such a strong lust potion without it destabilizing?”

“A _lust _potion?” Sabrina squeaked, turning to Prudence. “Why would you do that?!”

“It was an accident!” said Prudence, throwing up her hands. “I’m sorry! I don’t remember exactly what I did, but I swear I wasn’t trying to make anything like… like _that_. It’s against the Witches’ Code.”

“I believe you. True lust potions require far more precious, rare ingredients, which I know for a fact my sister keeps under lock and key.” Hilda vanished the contents of the cauldron, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Never mind that now. In the end, the original potion is only part of the antidote. I need you to go get me the ingredients for the rest.”

“…the rest?”

Hilda sighed. If Zelda weren’t in dire straits, she’d have half a mind to ask her why her students didn’t seem to know the first thing about antidotes but could brew a lethal poison _by accident_.

* * *

“I want her in Azkaban within the hour!” Faustus roared, quill moving rapidly across a piece of parchment.

Professor Lovecraft’s mouth went dry. Ever since he’d broken the freezing enchantment, Faustus had been beside himself with fury.

“But… surely, you don’t want to see her put into _prison_ for… freezing you?” said Lovecraft, shocked and appalled at the idea of Zelda Spellman being punished so harshly for what seemed to be a personal, domestic quarrel between lovers.

“Not just freezing—torturing!” Faustus said through clenched teeth, finishing his letter. “The Dementors can have her.”

Lovecraft shook his head, his heart pounding. “I’ve known you a long time, Faustus, but I never thought you would put a woman in Azkaban for bruising your ego.”

“What about putting a _witch_ in prison for performing an _Unforgivable Curse_?” Faustus hissed, rolling up the letter and tying it to the owl’s leg.

Professor Lovecraft’s heart leapt into his throat. Zelda Spellman would never perform an Unforgivable Curse unless she felt it was necessary. She’d told him as much one rainy afternoon, while they sat in the teacher’s lounge, sipping tea—that she hadn’t even cast a single Unforgivable Curse during the First Wizarding War, as she preferred other methods of bending people to her will. It wasn’t worth going to Azkaban over those three specific spells when it was just as easy to control, torture, and kill people with perfectly_ legal_ spells, she’d said.

“Faustus—do you mean to tell me Zelda Spellman performed the _Cruciatus Curse_ on you? Why in Merlin’s name would she do that?” said Lovecraft, though he could think of several reasons, all having to do with the fact that Blackwood’s pants and underwear had been around his ankles. It made Lovecraft nauseous to think that in the ten minutes he’d left them alone, something terrible enough to warrant an Unforgivable Curse had happened between them.

“Not Zelda, you imbecile. _Lilith_,” said Faustus as the owl flew towards the top of the tower.

Lovecraft’s head was beginning to hurt. “When… _why_ did the Deputy Headmistress join your… meeting?”

“I’m losing patience with all of your asinine questions, Professor Lovecraft,” Faustus said, summoning a piece of paper from the ground. “Here is your bloody signature. Get out.”

* * *

Hilda was at her wit’s end. She’d tried her best, but she worried the antidote she’d concocted wouldn’t be nearly as strong as it needed to be. At the very least, it would buy her sister some time… but Hilda refused to think about the harsh truth of the matter: eventually, Zelda would have to succumb to the potion’s effects. She only hoped Lilith had done her due diligence and kept Zelda away from anyone who would take advantage of her sister’s state.

And so, with a beaker glass full of the closest antidote she could make, she transferred to Zelda’s bedroom.

She was not prepared for the sight of a woman—whose mane of raven hair could only belong to Lilith—stretched over her sister’s naked and trembling body.

The glass beaker slipped from her hands, shattering into a million pieces and sending the antidote she had worked so hard to prepare all over the floor.

_“Zelds?!”_

Anger unlike any other rose inside Hilda. The rage was so strong it made her vision blur at the edges. Before Lilith could so much as react, she’d hit her with a levitation spell so strong the woman’s head bounced off the ceiling with a sickening _crack_.

“Sister, no! Stop!” Zelda cried as she scrambled to put on her robe.

Despite Hilda’s tunnel vision, she was still able to see the bruises on her sister’s thighs. It filled her with such fury and despair, she was certain that if her sister weren’t insisting she stop, she would’ve killed Lilith on the spot. In order to cast an Unforgivable Curse, a witch had to mean it, and Hilda had never had such clear and profound murderous intent in all her life—except, perhaps, when Blackwood had left her sister hanging in the dungeon, whipped to within an inch of her life.

“I should_ kill_ her for what she’s done!” shouted Hilda, casting another spell that sent Lilith flying into the wall instead of the ceiling, the force of the impact enough to make her shriek with pain. The deputy headmistress then crumpled to the floor, boneless.

“No, no! _Please_ listen to me, Hildie,” said Zelda, jumping in front of Lilith so that Hilda wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot without hitting her by accident.

Hilda tried to dodge around her sister, only interested in righting what she saw as a heinous crime. She snarled to Lilith, “I asked you—_trusted_ you—to keep her safe, and _this_ is what you do?! You… you _rape_ her yourself?” Hilda’s voice cracked on the word “rape,” as she sent another hex Lilith’s way, but Zelda blocked it at the last moment with a counter-spell.

“She didn’t! Hilda, please, calm down so I can explain—”

“There’s no explanation I will accept for what she’s done, Zelds.”

Lilith moaned, clutching her head in pain. Zelda immediately hurried over and knelt beside her, whispering a healing charm as her lips brushed tenderly against the woman’s hair.

Once the healing charm was finished, Zelda looked up at her sister with angry tears in her eyes. “She _saved_ me, Hilda.”

“Breaking the magic of a lust potion by… by having sex with you… is not the same as _saving _you,” Hilda insisted, on the verge of tears herself.

“She saved me from _Faustus_,” said Zelda, running fingers through Lilith’s mane of hair as Lilith struggled for breath after all the wind had been knocked out of her. “He was the one who… who didn’t seem to care that I was clearly… not myself.”

Hilda was about to respond when a Howler floated through the open window and in front of Zelda’s face. She’d barely touched it when it opened itself up on its own, and Faustus’ booming voice flooded the space between them:

_“REPORT TO THE HEADMASTER’S TOWER—AT ONCE.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the universe of Harry Potter; that belongs to J.K. Rowling. I don't own the universe of "The Worst Witch," which belongs to Jill Murphy, and neither do I own the plot of the "Miss Softbroom" episode. And while it seems a bit silly to credit Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa as the owner of these characters, considering he himself stole/borrowed/recreated them, let's give it a go. 
> 
> I do not own these characters. They belong to Archie Comics, which sent Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa himself a cease and desist for his blatant fanfic-turned-play, "Archie's Weird Fantasy," not too long ago. 
> 
> Please do not sue me; I am an unemployed adjunct professor writing fanfiction purely for entertainment purposes. I have very little money, but a whole lot of love for complicated female characters. While I do not wish to be sued, I would very much enjoy being given a position as show-runner for writing some great fanfic. I eagerly await your email.


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